Baby Girl III The Dream Come True
by Kelyse Llewes
Summary: Christiana Malfoy, now 21, is going through a rebellious stage. She finds herself then suddenly drawn to muggle Callum MacCarther. She knows her parents will never approve, but she can't help herself. OCxOC. Please R&R.
1. Rebellious Lovers

**Baby Girl III – The Dream Come True**

**Chapter One: Rebellious Lovers**

_**Author's Note: Well everyone, this is the story in the Baby Girl Trilogy. This story does not consist of one chapter as the previous two do. There was too much to cram into this one. There are three chapters and the epilogue. So enjoy, I hope you like it, and as always, please leave a review! Thanks a million! **_

Racing through the back alleys of London streets on a Saturday night was the best way to go through a well charged bank of adrenaline. Especially when there were four thugs right behind you shouting out every curse in the book when you dodged another seemingly impossible-to-get-around obstacle. But hey, what else was magic for other than to turn the unbelievers into believers.

It was when I spotted the brick wall in front of me that I really gulped down the adrenaline and held on for the ride. Taking out my wand I took a deep breath and stepping up on a loose crate I lifted myself into the air, rocketing over the high wall as well as the building it belonged to. I silently called up my broomstick while in midair and it met me on my way down. I glided off into the distance towards a hill. On that hill stood Malfoy Manor, a house that was far from warm, but it welcomed me home at the end of the day, no matter what that day had brought me.

Before I reached my destination however I was struck out of the air by an electric blue flash of magic that knocked me clean off my broom. My broomstick kept right on going, the lucky thing, and I plummeted straight towards the cobblestone streets of London. I had my wand out instantly once more, directing its energy towards the ground, hoping to steady myself for a somewhat safe landing. Before I could cleanly make up the words in my mind I was caught in some kind of force field that held me still. I still fell, but more like a feather than a rock now. I was being guided.

Ugh, was my first reaction. A girl just cannot have any fun around here. The fact that I was being guided was the first tip that the end result wasn't going to be good, despite the fact that I wouldn't be a pancake when I hit the ground. No, I would just be in heaps of trouble when I touched down.

Bucking up my resilient defenses, I let my right foot graze the ground and I was suddenly released from the force field. The power retreated towards the mouth of a small alley and out from the dark stepped a figure. Shadowed in black clothes, the only light that the body held was the blonde hair on the top of his head that was reflected by the brief glimpses of the moon as it went in and out of the clouds overhead.

Raising my hand I gestured for him to come over, meanwhile saying, "Come on, let's hear this? I'll bet you I can say this lecture word for word by now. Ten galleons let's say?"

"Chris, this is no laughing matter," the figure said.

"Believe me Scorpius; laughing has nothing to do with it."

He lifted his head and I saw the piercing eyes of my big brother. At three years shy of forty he still looked young and vigilant, which would explain his being here tonight. He was still keeping an eye on his little sister, a fact that he would never, ever, let me forget!

"You're damn right I won't let you forget," he said, probing into my temporal lobe, a habit he had picked up when he was younger. His ability to read thoughts really just ticked me off. Chuckling he came closer towards me, "I only read your thoughts, Chris, probably because you exercise no strength in hiding them from me."

"Just stay out of my head Scorpius," I retorted.

"No need to get angry."

"Wanna bet?"

"Another ten galleons? Do you even have twenty galleons, Sis? Huh? Last I heard you were still bumming off of mom and dad, because you still can't find a job. Isn't that right?" I averted my eyes. "I don't even need to wait for an answer to that one, Chris. This has gone on far too long. This tom-foolery has got to stop."

"Yeah, and who's going to stop me?"

"Hey, I know how you feel. Took me a long time to settle down too. I think it's in our genes. Messing around his a Malfoy trait. It's dampened itself out in the past generations though. I'm not nearly as dark as Dad, and you, well; you're just out for the fun of it. You have no real goals. And if you're not careful, Mom and Dad will see that too and well then you know what happens next?"

I heaved a sigh in the dark night and looked away from my brother. It wasn't hard to guess. I had seen my parents do it to my brother five years ago because he wasn't moving as fast as they would have liked. They made him marry someone he didn't have the smallest incline towards liking. Belle was only now, five years later, expecting their first child, and there was more than a few rumours going around that it wasn't even Scorpius' kid. I looked towards Scorpius and he shook his head, as if affirming that it wasn't. "Tough break," I said.

He just shrugged. "My best defense is to stay away from it all. I'll raise him as mine, but I don't even know how much longer this marriage will last."

I wrinkled my nose. If that ever happened to me, I would probably just break down in a fit of hysterics to get away from it. I'd rather be in a loony-bin than shacked up in a marriage I had no interested in being in.

"You want my advice, Sis?" Scorpius asked, taking my hand and directing me down the street. We were on our way home now. We'd stood in the London road at midnight for long enough. I nodded, as if I had any choice. "Find him yourself."

I snorted, a very unladylike thing to do, but I was beyond caring. "Find him myself? Where? Where would I find a guy who was good enough for both me and Mom and Dad?"

"Don't worry about pleasing Mom and Dad," he laughed. "Their lids are screwed on so tight no amount of twisting will unhinge them. But if you find him first, if they can at least tolerate him, you'll be home free."

"Ugh. But why would I want to get married at twenty-one? I know you always said I would, but seriously, why would anyone choose that?"

He shrugged, "Beats me, Sis. But what matters is that you settle down. What matters is that he makes you realize that gallivanting around the streets of London at one in the morning is not the way you want to spend the rest of your days."

"Hey," I protested, rather indignantly, "It's not one in the morning yet."

Scorpius raised his eyebrows and off in the distance I heard London tower clock clang. Once. Narrowing my gaze at my brother I raised my hand and slapped him in the arm.

Laughing he said, "Hey, can you blame a brother for being right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, yes I can. And I will. Now go away."

"Fine," he replied. "But just remember what I said eh? You find him before they find him for you. Because the latter isn't going to toot your horn like the former will."

"Toot my horn?" I asked confused. But before I could get any answer he turned into a wisp of air and apparated to wherever he was staying tonight as he rarely spent nights with Belle.

I walked up the hill towards Malfoy Manor and as I gripped the cold rails of the gate to push it open my head was daunting towards the idea that I might have to find a husband sooner rather than later. The idea threw me for a loop, and I didn't like it one bit.

***

Callum MacArthur took one step out of the tall London skyscraper and dozens of ladies swooned at the image of respectability and nouveaux-riche. He had the money not to mention the class of a fine up-standing British Citizen. His hair was a deep chestnut brown colour, his eyes a subtle gold colour, like old whiskey held up to candlelight, and his big broad shoulders took up any doorway, making him look that much more menacing. But he was far from menacing. His business disposition called for intimidating, but he was sick and tired of people taking him for a businessman through and through.

He hailed a cab from the sidewalk and hopping in he wondered what would be on the stove for dinner when he arrived him. His cook never failed to surprise him. Meals were usually the one thing he looked forward to at the end of a long rough day. And most days were rough. Since turning thirty, he was constantly reminded that this was not how a successful, fully mature man went home at the end of the day. His mother usually phoned twice a day to discuss the matter.

The cab dropped him off at the far side of London, where he was able to enjoy the city scenery to the one side, and the rolling English hills to the other. The long driveway with high-security gates only added to the splendor of the house he had purchases five years ago. His whizz-kid days had certainly paid off. He was down-to-earth and practical, logical, and took his numbers seriously.

He went through the front door of his mansion, a classic yet modern stylized home that initially was a hundred years old, but with every comfort of modern society added to the bundle. He poured himself a snifter of brandy to wind down, dropping his briefcase and jacket in his office before making his way to the kitchen. Laid out on the table was a full place setting, complete with silver tray and cover. Underneath the cover was a simple meal for one: Pasta Primavera with garlic toast, a glass of cold milk to the side and a paper already folded to the stock exchange page.

He sat down with his snifter in hand and had just laid the napkin in his lap when there was a grand ringing that echoed throughout the house. Someone was at the door. And Callum had made two guesses before he settled on the caller. Call it a son's intuition. Heaving a sigh, he replaced the cover on his meal and took off towards the front door, knowing that his mother wouldn't wait to be let in. The sooner he stopped her, the better. Letting her past the foyer, or god forbid, into the kitchen would start one of her classic lectures, on the way a grown and successful man was supposed to live.

Margery MacArthur was as nouveaux-riche as her son, but she hadn't earned it like he had. She had married into it. She firmly believed in keeping the money to the top and so marrying off her son to a high-class lady was top priority. Callum opened the front door, almost amazed that his mother had chosen to stand there, rather than letting herself in. "Mother," he greeted, looking less than enthused.

"Callum, darling. Have I caught you at a bad time?" She asked this so innocently, but he knew very well she was wheedling her way into his life again. He hated when she tried to act naive, as if she was almost wishing that he'd come to the door in nothing but boxers and an open shirt, caught in the act. Seeing him in his work pants, dress shirt and barely loosened tie didn't improve her mood at all. "Dinner for one again?"

Callum knew better than to respond, simply stepping back and allowing her into his home. Shutting the door he walked into the sitting room with his mother. She sat primly on the very edge of the settee, her hands clasped gracefully in her lap. He eyed her suspiciously. "What is this mother?"

"What is what?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow and she reached into her jacket pocket. "Oh I was just cleaning out the attic this morning."

"You were cleaning out the attic?" he folded his arms questioningly. "I find that very hard to believe."

Margery smiled, "Believe what you want, but nonetheless, I found this." She set a small blue velvet box on the coffee table. "I just thought that it might be handy, you know, in the future."

Callum sat down in the chair across from his mother's and looked directly at her. "Say what you mean to say, as plainly as possible, Mother. No use beating around the bush."

Margery smiled and dropped her innocent act. "You always were a stubborn boy. Look, your father and I have been talking."

"Since when?"

"Don't interrupt, Callum." She crossed her legs, something that Callum called her serious pose. "We have decided to invite you over for dinner tomorrow night. Don't argue because it'll do you no good at all. We've invited a nice girl. She's charming, sophisticated…"

"Has a lot of money, and her parents are in a business that Father is trying to do a huge business merger with. I know the ploy Mother. I'll go to your dinner, if only to appease you. But don't expect anything else."

Crossing her arms now, Margery glared at him, "Goodness boy, you give less accurate results than the United States stock exchange numbers."

"That's what you get for sending me to Harvard."

"Clearly." She stood up abruptly and walked towards the door. "Listen Callum, you need to stop dallying and get married. You might be surprised what a wife will do for a man's career. Didn't I hear something about your office holding a vacation, married couples only?"

"So?"

"Wouldn't you like to go to Cancun?"

"No."

Margery huffed before opening the front door, "Fine, have it your way. But believe me, you're going to want a wife before long. It's what your father and I both want. It'll give you some peace."

"You know, Mother, playing to my sympathies might actually work if you knew who I was anymore. Focus on your dinner and stop trying to act like you know me."

Margery opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short, spinning on her heel, her hair whipping out behind her. Callum shook his head before shutting the door behind her. The woman who had raised him had turned into a cold-hearted harpy, bent on marrying him off to the highest bidder. It drove him up the wall.

Returning to the kitchen he grabbed his plate and utensils before going to his office. Switching on his computer he turned in his swivel chair to look towards the rolling hills and forget his mother's visit. The humming of his computer booting up gave him a relaxed feeling.

Watching the hills, his eyes drew to a tall Manor out over the distance. It was a cold-looking place, much like the one he had been raised in. Thinking about his childhood irritated him. He downed the rest of his brandy and blinked twice before turning to his meal. He looked up once more to the house on that hill and caught an image of something flying through the air towards him. His first thoughts jumped to the least logical: a witch flying a broomstick. As he sat and calculated the odds he shook his head again, thinking it might be some trick of the brandy. But it didn't go away. It kept coming closer and closer until it was right in front of his window, shooting towards him like a stray bullet.

He backed up and hit his desk before he could do anything about the person coming towards him on a broomstick out of control.

CRASH!!!!

_**Author's Note:: Well, what did ya think? Please leave a review. Thanks a million! **_


	2. Something Else

**Chapter Two: Something Else**

Crumpled on the far side of the room, I wasn't very impressed. "Oh," I cried out when I tried to move my arm. After that I didn't make any sudden movements with my arm. Damn thing must be broken. I got up mumbling, "Damn broomstick, as faulty as the day I made it. What in the hell was I thinking? Oh yeah, it'll make me a million galleons and I'll be famous for bringing an oldie back. Good thinking, you knob!" I blinked and winced again at my arm. I saw the destruction I had brought with me when I had decided to test out the old Nimbus Two-Thousand I had built from scratch when I was younger. Now, around me it looked as if I wasn't the only one injured from my foolish ideas.

He was sprawled over a large white box, turned as if protecting it. I hobbled over to him and poked him once, hoping to god I hadn't killed him. He groaned. I just knew it; he was going to die because of me. In my frustration I kicked the side of the desk, using all my force. I kicked the desk leg right off and slipped at the same time, falling on to the floor with a thud. The desk leaned, the sprawled man slipped off the white box, which seemed to be held in place somehow, and fell directly on top of me. I bit my lip briefly before letting out a wail in pain. He'd fallen right on my arm.

The noise must have alerted him to my presence because he groaned again before raising his head to look at me. "Oh," was all he said.

I gasped "Yeah, 'oh', now get the heck off of me!"

"OH!" he replied before leaping to action. He reached for me, grabbing for my bad arm.

"OWWW!!!!!" I screamed. "Not that arm you ignorant son of a—"

"I'm sorry." He went around me and gently raised me to my feet, without budging me arm a bit. "I…I don't know what to say."

"You and me both," I replied, once again surveying the destruction of the office. The only thing that looked semi-intact was the book shelves on the far side of the room and the white box that was still on the broken desk. "I guess…well I guess I should be saying sorry as well." Then I mumbled, "Piece of junk broomstick, where the hell are you? I'm going to use you as kindling when I find you."

"Excuse me?" the man asked, looking at me rather confused.

I tried my best to put on a smile before replying, "Oh nothing."

"Look, I'm sorry if I lay offence, and correct me if I'm wrong, but you were riding a broomstick when you crashed into my office, right?"

I laughed one nervous laugh, recognizing the handsome face with a confused expression he was currently displaying. It told me was still trying to wrap his head around what just happened. "Uh…" I tried to think of something to distract him briefly, "Uh…can I use your washroom?"

"Sure," he said. "Down the hall, second door on the right. If you hit the kitchen you've gone past it."

"Right, okay. I'll be right back then," I said, ducking out of the interrogation. He was sure to ask more when I came back, especially since I was planning a little instant-healing in the washroom.

Down the hall and at the second door on the right hand side I entered the spacious bathroom and shut the door, locking it and soundproofing it. I took my wand, looking into the mirror, and pointed at my arm. It took all my effort to hold it at my side in order to heal it. Muttering the spell I heard a large crack and spewed off a series of swear words. I flexed my arm a few times, raising and lowering it, before I was completely satisfied that the charm had worked. It seemed so and I took a look once more in the mirror. There were a few splinters of wood in my hair, which I plucked out immediately, and ran my hands under the tap to wash off the smoke soot, a result of broomstick straw catching on fire midair. I brushed my fingers through my hair then, as only a girl would, and retracted the soundproof spell and unlocked the door.

Upon opening the door I was taken by surprise at the man whose house I'd crashed into just standing there with his hands in his pockets, a frown now permanently tattooed on his forehead. I had to admit that to some degree, he was actually quite good looking. Spectacular I'd say, if I wasn't in my right mind. I tried my best to smile but his serious look brushed it right off.

"You owe me some answers," he said.

"Uh-huh," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Let's start with your name, Ms…"

"Uh…Chris …er…Christiana Malfoy. What's your name?"

"Callum MacArthur. Now why not explaining to me what just happened in there?"

My face contorted. I really wanted to tell him, but I knew I really shouldn't. I could always erase his memory later, but that didn't seem all too humane to me. I always remembered my Uncle Ron's story about his second year of school and how his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had tried to erase my Uncle Harry's memory, and it backfired and erased his own instead. I really didn't believe in doing that to someone who had a full life before they would potentially have their memory erased.

With that concluded I simply replied with the truth. "I was riding a broomstick I had made when I was like thirteen, which ended up being a really bad idea, because it suddenly caught fire and I started careening towards your window and I crashed into the window because I didn't have any breaks and then broke my arm and you fell on top of me, which hurt a lot by the way, and then I excused myself to get out of your questioning me, to heal my arm, and for fear of your finding out I was a witch."

I blinked and bit down on my tongue again. I looked up at Callum and he seemed rather amused. "A witch?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

"A broomstick?"

"Uh-huh."

"Heal your arm?"

I lifted my arm to show him. "Uh-huh."

He then laughed, "Are you going to say something other than 'uh-huh'?"

I frowned. "What is this?" I asked him smoothly. Did he believe me? "Why are you acting so cool about this?"

He shrugged, "I don't actually know. I don't seem to have a choice."

I eyed him suspiciously, "No choice?" I repeated.

"Nope. You're a witch, I saw you riding a broomstick, which I must admit isn't the most logical mode of transportation, but I've never been past believing the impossible. The numbers prove the impossible every day."

I crossed my arms and stared at him. "So, you're usually a level-headed, logical, practical muggle—I mean guy—and you have no problem whatsoever in believing that I'm witch?"

He shrugged again, "Guess not. What's a muggle?"

"Non-magic person."

"Oh. Do you want a drink?"

"Sure—wait! Wait just a minute! Did you hit your head on that white box thing? Are you feeling okay?"

He nodded, "I'm fine. And it's a computer."

"What's a computer?"

"That white box thing you're talking about."

"Whatever!"

He smiled softly, lighting up his eyes that I hadn't really looked into since we'd officially met. They were a harsh golden colour that seemed to twinkle. "You seem to be having a harder time believing this than me," he commented.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess I just never thought someone would accept it so easily. You are a muggle right?"

"I guess so. I mean I can't wave a wand and charm someone or something if that's what you're getting at."

I pulled out my wand and palm up showed it to him. "You know about my wand?"

"Ha," he laughed. "I never would have guessed. So the stories are true? What about the broomstick?"

"That piece of junk. I'm going to turn it into splinters when I find it," I admitted angrily.

This just seemed to amuse him. "Neat," he said, "Can I watch?"

I couldn't help but laugh. Shaking my head I looked over at him, "You know, you're something else, Callum. You're just something else."

***

So was she, he had to admit. She was luminous. Despite the soot on her nose and the stray splinter of wood in her hair, she was positively glowing. He was now beginning to doubt his level-headedness and call a doctor for a CAT-scan. He wasn't usually this cool about things. He claimed that numbers proved the impossible everyday, but what he didn't say was that it usually had some sort of logic behind it, a system, or an algorithm, something that explained the series of events. This kind of impossible was like dropping a bomb and cleaning out all preconceived notions about the fact that witchcraft was just a bunch of hocus pocus. But this woman in front of him, this radiant witch, mislaid all those judgments and allowed him to begin with a clean slate. And he had so many questions.

She seemed to be watching him intently, smiling the whole time. "What?" he asked.

"Uh-oh," she replied. "I know that look."

"What look?" he asked, trying to erase whatever look he had been holding previously.

"The look of a kid opening the biggest present under the Christmas tree at age six. The look that says, 'this is something new and exciting and I want to find out everything I can about it."

"Oh." He then laughed, not realizing that he had been so transparent. "I guess that is how I feel. Can…can I ask some questions?"

She inclined her head. "Sure. Help me find that broomstick of mine and I'll answer all your questions. If I decide I've told you too much, I can always erase your memory later."

Callum laughed, "Oh yeah…wait. You can do that?"

When Chris laughed, Callum thought of celestial music, which on the outside seemed really corny, but on the inside, it made him feel something…as if a thousand possibilities had opened up to him. He started asking her all sorts of questions as they walked back into his study.

Looking for the remains of her broomstick took all of ten minutes as the damage hadn't been that extensive, but the talking lasted most of the night. Within three hours he had learned more about the wizarding world than a first year going to a school called Hogwarts knew. He learned a little about something called The Ministry of Magic, a sort of Wizarding government from what he had deduced. He knew that Chris was sixteen years younger than her brother, her mother was muggleborn and her father was a pureblood, meaning she was a half-blood witch. He had also decided that he would ask her out again, officially this time.

When the clock on the hall struck ten o'clock Christiana gathered up the pieces of her soon-to-be-firewood broomstick and retreated towards the door of the study. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I really should be going."

As she turned to leave Callum thought fast for something to somehow gap the time spent today to time that could potentially be spent together in the near future. "Wait," he said, "I don't even know your phone number." Chris stopped, and from the look on her face, Callum suspected that he had said something wrong. "What? What is it?"

She laughed, "Um…well, I don't have a phone."

Mouth-open he gaped at her. "No phone?!"

She shook her head. "Most wizards use Owl mail."

He wrapped his head around the concept. "Then…how do I…er…owl you?"

Again she laughed, "I'll owl you."

"When?"

"Soon," was all she answered before disappearing on the spot. Her form turned into a wisp of smoke, as if she had just evaporated. Mouth still open Callum returned to his still destructed office and sat in his chair. His computer monitor beeped at him as he took it out of hibernate. He opened a few work files before swiveling in his chair and looking out of the smashed window. Over on the hill, where Malfoy Manor stood, Callum saw a light in the South tower flick on. He sighed and for the first time, he felt oddly…at peace.

***

I owled him two days later. I couldn't stop thinking about him. From my tower bedroom, which I had moved to just after Scorpius had moved out, I looked out over the hills towards his home and tried to remember every detail about him. I could see his broad shoulders, his lean but strong build, and his brown hair. I could see every detail, except what color his eyes were. It was driving me crazy. Never in my life had I paced so much, wracked my brain so hard, not even during school exams had I worked so hard, and for the life of me I couldn't remember.

Finally I gave up and waited a whole day before scribbling on a piece of parchment: What color are your eyes? Then on a lark, I continued with: Would you like to go to dinner? Just write your response when you get it and send it back tied to Camilla's leg. (Camilla was a name I had picked out for my tawny brown owl when I was like eleven. Ten years gone and she was still a tough old bird).

The light flicked on in his study and I opened the window to let Camilla out. I saw her swoop down over the landscape, down the rolling hills towards Callum's house. She went in through the open study window, which Callum had surprisingly not replaced yet. I sat down on my bed and waited for the response. Ten minutes later I had one.

My eyes are whiskey-gold, or at least that's what people tell me. I just call them brown. I think dinner would be great. When? And I take it Camilla is the name of your owl?

I smiled to myself and then picked up my quill to reply. I had a change of heart though. It took me fifteen minutes to put on a green blouse and a pair of classy-looking faded jeans and boots. With a quick charm my hair was soft and silky and my make-up was applied accordingly. Without thinking twice I apparated to his front door and rang the doorbell.

When he opened the door his scowl immediately turned into a wide smile. He casually leaned against the doorframe, "Dinner for two?"

"In or out?" I replied smiling like a fool.

"Drinks in, dinner out?" he held open the door for me to pass through.

"Sounds good to me."

***

Six Months Later…

Curled up in the crook of his arm I lay listening to his heartbeat. He was wearing a pair of glasses reading the muggle paper he needed to keep up with his work. Bare-chested wearing a simple pair of pajama pants, he looked just about as good as he was gonna get. I was currently wearing an old Harvard t-shirt of his and a pair of his boxers. He had offered to turn the TV on, but I couldn't think of anything better to do than listen to the heartbeat of the man I had fallen in love with.

"Numbers up, numbers down, can't anyone get things right?" he muttered to himself. He had a habit of doing that when he read the stock exchange section of the paper. I giggled and simply ignored his mutterings; I was used to them by now.

He had been my secret lover for six months now. Six months of sneaking around my parents and my brother. Six months of pure bliss. Scorpius would no doubt be proud of me for finding Callum, for settling down, as I hadn't been on a late night scamper through the streets of London since meeting Callum. I couldn't begin to guess what my parents would say though.

My pureblood 'mother' would certainly be disappointed that she had raised such a delinquent child. She would fume and fuss, and in the end she would putter out and resign herself to not speaking to me for a few days. Father was another matter. He didn't harbor any ill-will towards muggles like he used to before he'd fallen in love with my real mother, muggleborn Hermione Granger. He held his nose up in society as only Malfoy would, pretending to despise all muggleborns, but somehow I suspected that he wouldn't mind as much. He was getting on in years too, so he might just be happy to see his Baby Girl with someone at all.

I bit my tongue and turned my head up to look at Callum. He had been bugging me for some time about when he was going to meet my parents. I had already met his, and despite the fact that they knew I wasn't their kind of money, they knew I was high-class somewhere, so they were satisfied. Callum had promised time and again that he'd be on his best behavior when meeting my parents, and though I believed him with all my heart, I still had reservations because I didn't have any certainty about my guesses of my parents' response.

I sighed heavily. Callum noticed, setting down his paper, "Uh-oh, she's thinking again."

Chuckling I replied, "Yeah. Force of habit from hanging out with you for too long."

He wiggled his hand around to my side and started tickling me. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," I laughed. He stopped then. "Callum…" I began.

He removed his glasses to look at me directly, "Knut for your thoughts?"

I couldn't help but smiling. He was so down-to-earth about my world I was so sure he would handle my parents famously. It was the vice versa I was worried about. I took a leap and said, "I think…I think you should…meet my parents."

Callum nodded as if expecting it. He then shrugged me off of him and opened his side dresser drawer. Revealing a small blue velvet box he popped the lid as he took me back into his arms. "And I think you should marry me."

I didn't have to think. I saw the ring, I saw the look in his eyes and I knew. I nodded speechlessly. I didn't know whether I was going to cry or not from the feeling welling up inside of me. But what I did know was that Callum was the best thing that had ever happened to me. "Yes," I said, finding my voice at last. "Yes, yes, yes!"

He put the ring on my finger and lifted my chin delicately to place a kiss on my lips. I kissed him right back. Ready or not, we were taking the plunge now. The icy cold plunge into an unknown world. We planned for a family dinner the following Sunday, were I would introduce Callum as my fiancé and wait for all hell to break loose.

_**Author's Note: Please keep reading. The past two segments of this trilogy have been rather sad and I want you to know right up front that I made the ending of this one as happy as I could make it. Please leave a review. Thanks a million! **_


	3. An Understanding Love

**Chapter Three: An Understanding Love**

Taking a deep breath I squeezed Callum's hand, firmly lodging it in my own, letting him know that this was it, now or never, and he had better not leave me now because I was as unhinged as I was going to get. The dinner invitations had been sent out. It was going to be a formal family dinner, and Mom, Dad, and Scorpius, his wife and son, didn't have a clue that Callum was coming. I didn't have the strength to tell them.

Callum felt the tug of his hand and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "It's going to be alright."

That was easy for him to say. My father was once a youth Death Eater who had lived his worst days in this house with my gargoyle of a grandfather. My mother was a pretentious snob who wanted me seated with a pureblood, as if to stamp out the muggle blood that was already in my system. And well, my brother was my brother, and he would always support me, but this might have been a little more drastic in his eyes. He had said find someone myself. Well I'd found him. And he happened to be more of a muggle than my real mother had been.

"How can you be sure?" I asked tentatively.

He kissed my cheek, "Because I'm gonna marry you no matter what your parents say."

I looked at him and saw the sincerity gleaming from his eyes. He really would. I was so proud to have met him. "Thank you," I said, taking my arms and wrapping them around his torso. He kissed the top of my head next. "Thank you so much."

Chuckling as I released him he said, "Take a deep breath," and I did so, then, "Now let's go."

I reached for the door latch and pushed. It rushed open and I presented Callum with Malfoy Foyer. A long stone staircase led off to the left to the second floor. There were long rails that spanned the halls of the upstairs, allowing those to see down to the front door. Malfoy Manor was graced with spacious lawns and a large area within which its buildings had been built. The main wing was to the right of the house from the front door, heading south, to where my bedroom was at the top of the South Tower. My brother had resided in the North Tower five years ago before he'd gotten married. I walked through the foyer letting Callum take in the Baroque architecture, the ancient feel to the structure, and the less than welcoming sense it gave off.

Astoria was standing at the top of the stairs and I lifted my head proudly, tightening my grip on Callum's arm. "Mother," I greeted.

"Christiana," she said, gliding down the staircase, her silk skirt rustling as she descended, her pearl earrings bobbing with the movement. Astoria maintained her short blonde hair throughout her life and now, as it turned to white, some missed the difference because it had been so strikingly blonde when she was younger. She held herself with an air of sophistication. "You have brought a guest."

"I have," I replied. "Where is Father?" I inquired, wishing to make the grand announcement with everyone present so my mother didn't have the chance to run off to my Father spouting untrue tales.

"Here," came a voice to my left. My father, Draco, walked into the room, and right behind him was Scorpius, with Belle bringing up the rear, cradling in her arms tiny Gregory. Gregory was three-months-old and had light brown hair. Scorpius narrowed his eyes first at me then at Callum.

Wetting my lips I was praying to whatever higher power there was that I had enough strength to get through this night. My father went to my mother's side, placing his hand on the small of her back possessively, an act that no one failed to miss. "Who is your young suitor?" he asked.

"This," I managed to squeak out, "Is Callum, my fiancé."

I got exactly the reaction I had braced myself for. Astoria's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, Scorpius' eyes widened with surprise, Belle tightened her lips, making her look like a fish, and my father stepped forward, cracking his knuckles menacingly. I took a step in front of Callum, just as a precaution.

"Fiancé?" my father repeated. "Since when?"

Before I could speak Callum had stepped forward as well, hand outstretched, "We became engaged a week ago, sir. I'm Callum MacArthur. It's good to meet you."

My father, as cold as ever, just looked at the hand before him, his lower lip curled and he looked Callum dead in the eye, saying, "We shall see. We shall see. Dinner Christiana."

Draco turned back to Astoria then and my mother finally found her voice box in working order. She looked at my father, almost scared, scared for her reputation, and whispered, "Who is he? Do we know his parents?" I almost smiled at her because I knew damn well that his parents weren't on her radar anymore than she knew how to work a telephone. I watched my mother and father leave the main foyer up the hall towards the dining room while Scorpius and Belle watched me.

"I'm going to the room, Scorpius," Belle literally whined, "I can tell that this evening is just going to upset me." She threw a daggers stare towards Callum and then took baby Gregory up the stairs towards her room. Two sickles said she wasn't expecting to see Scorpius for the rest of the night.

Scorpius then put his hand into his black pant pocket and pulled out two silver coins. He flicked them and I caught them with a well practiced left-hand. "You'd be quite right, Sis," he said. "Callum MacArthur." Callum turned to him. "You are going to marry my sister?"

Callum kept a firm grasp on my right hand and replied, "I intend to, yes."

Scorpius came forward and cocked his head towards me, asking the unasked question that I understood almost immediately. "Yes," I answered coolly. "He is a muggle."

Scorpius's gaze didn't waver. Heaving a huge breath he said, "Well shoot, Sis, you took it seriously didn't ya? Don't worry about Mom and Dad, I told ya. Well Callum, if you manage to survive the night and pass as 'Acceptable' on my parents' grading scale, then I'll welcome you as a brother."

"Thank you?" Callum said.

"Oh, you should be thanking me," Scorpius replied, taking a step towards the dining room. "Because if you go in there, you've got one more ally at that table. If this gets ugly, you've got one more wand out to save your butt rather than cursing it." He then turned to me. "You're sure about this?"

I nodded, "Absolutely."

Scorpius smiled, "Let's get this party started then. Roast beef for dinner. Muggle for breakfast anyone?"

My mouth gaped, "Scorpius!"

He flashed me a quick smile, "Only joking. Muggle for breakfast is awful."

I lifted my wand out and sent a quick zap aimed at my brother's butt. It missed, whizzing right by down the hall just before he disappeared into the dining room. I pocketed my wand to look at Callum. He was looking very pale, and his eyes were shaking back and forth. "Hey," I said, placing my hand on his cheek.

His eyes fell to me. "Was this a good idea?" he muttered. I could tell that his previous bravado had failed him after the cold and brief encounter with my father and the joke my brother had played on him.

I chuckled lightly; knowing that if I full out laughed it would be my head on the chopping block. "It'll be fine. Scorpius was only joking. And remember what you told me?"

His colour returned and he looked down at me warmly, "That I'll marry you no matter what."

I nodded, "Well that goes for me too. I'm gonna marry you no matter what my parents say. I don't need their approval. I just need them to know I'm not afraid of them. Maybe that's the only way to earn their respect. Now come on," I took his hand, "let's have dinner."

***

She held her chin high as she walked into her father's study. Callum sat outside, stiff as a board, trying his darndest not to think too much of what they could possible be saying. They had all sat on pins and needles the entire dinner. Chris kept throwing him hopeful glances. She and Scorpius exchanged few words and with her parents even fewer. The dinner was stiff. The food was delicious but Callum tasted none of it due to the cold atmosphere. From what little he'd seen of the house and now the dining room, he could tell that Malfoy Manor was more like a mausoleum than a home. It was cold and isolated, just as Christiana's parents seemed to be. Scorpius had at least opened up to him and given him the benefit of the doubt. But now as Christiana walked into her father's study Callum felt Scorpius's gaze bare heavily down on him.

Clearing his throat, bringing his attention to Callum, Scorpius paced the hallway. Astoria had already excused herself from the room, climbing the stairs while staring daggers through Callum. A shiver went through his spine and then Scorpius spoke. "It took courage for you to come here tonight."

Gulping, Callum nodded in agreement, for he had been thinking the same thing the entire night. Also that and what he had gotten himself into. He was now on the bad side of a family of powerful wizards and witches and all he had done was love their daughter.

Scorpius continued, "It will take even greater courage to walk out of here tonight."

"What do you mean?" Callum asked, suddenly confused. What was Scorpius trying to say?

"I can hear every word that is being exchanged in that room. I know what my father is going to say to Christiana. I know that this match is not going to be allowed." Callum stood up, suddenly defensive. "As brave as you are MacArthur, you are no match for my parents. I will stand to protect you but it will be easier still if you just walked out."

"Walked out on Christiana? I can't leave her, not when I promised—"

"I know what you promised!" Scorpius hissed. His grey-blue eyes suddenly flashed and Callum's bravado waivered slightly. "You promised to stand by her. But little good that will do when you are dead!"

"Dead?" Callum managed to whisper. "They…"

"They plan on making you disappear from their little girl's life forever. The signs they passed at dinner said it all, even without my ability to read their thoughts. But I cannot kill my father to ensure his little girl's happiness. Leave now or I will send you." Scorpius drew his wand.

Callum hesitated, "But…"

"Go now!"

He glanced at the door where Christiana was and then glanced back at Scorpius. "I hope you're right," was all he said before rushing off down the hallway and out the front door. He was in his car before he could count to ten and flying down the road towards his home. Their home. He hoped she could find it in her heart to forgive him.

***

"Christiana, you are my daughter, and I will not allow you to marry a muggle!" He stood menacingly by the fireplace hearth, the red flames seeming to lick at his tall a domineering figure.

"I am a grown woman Father," I recounted. "I am old enough to make my own decisions."

"But are you old enough to know your own heart?"

"If I don't then it is my mistake to make and you cannot keep me from this." I would stand firm against my parents. I had already seen to Callum's safety, telling Scorpius to make him leave at whatever cost, and now it was time to solidify his role in my life.

"You are my daughter Christiana!"

"And as your daughter I have the right to some freedom. Freedom of speech, freedom of expression, and the freedom to follow my heart. You have never understood me, Father. You have tried. You have wanted all the best for me, including a husband. Do you realize that the arrangement you forced Scorpius into is crumbling before your very eyes? Can't you see that he is miserable and has been for the past five years in keeping up this façade."

"Scorpius can take care of himself. If he knows what's right for him, he will remedy the situation."

"And we both know how that will end, Father. He is going to leave Belle. You say he can take care of himself, why can I not take care of myself too?"

"You are too young?"

"I am not too young. I am twenty-one and of perfect legal age to do as I please. I know what I want, Father. I want what you had."

"What I had?" his expression of anger and frustration went blank before hitting confusion.

"What you had with Mum."

"Your mother and I never felt the illusion of love for one another. We were practical and logical. Besides, your mother is an upstanding member of the wizarding society—"

"I'm not talking about Astoria, Dad. I'm talking about my mother. Her name was Hermione Granger if you'll recall." It was a painful memory to resurface for my father. Draco Malfoy had never been allowed to love Hermione Granger. They kept their love a secret as long as they could.

"What I had…with…Hermione." My father repeated it before turning towards the stone fireplace that blazed behind him. His white hair gleaming in the light, the wrinkles on his face accentuated making him look every bit the sixty-year-old man that he was.

"Dad," I said, moving to his side as he braced himself against the hearth. "Dad, I know the kind of love you and Mum had. Scorpius told me. Why can't you let me feel that too?"

He took a great sigh and replied quietly, revealing a bit of himself that I had never seen before. "Because I lost your mother," he said. "That muggle disease almost broke me in two. Your mother almost broke me in two. It came so swift, so sudden, I wasn't prepared. We have fortifying genes in our bodies that help us fight off those kinds of diseases. I will not have the same pain upon you."

A tear trailed down my cheek as I watched my father uncover the emotions he had long since buried. He was a Malfoy, and his upbringing had forced him to continuously hide all his feelings. His face was contorted from the pain he was feeling again. He took out his wand and waved it once into the air, conjuring up a holographic image of my mother. Her brown hair and brown eyes shone towards him. She laughed, she smiled, she cried, and she called out his name before placing a single hand on her stomach, the stomach where I instinctively knew I was growing at the time.

The image disappeared and my father's face had gone placid again. "Dad," I went over and placed my hand on his arm, "I love Callum. I love him every bit as much as Mum loved you. I know you don't want to be the cause of that kind of pain by separating us. Callum and I will take care of each other. I want that happiness, please Dad."

My father was torn between his feelings and my own. Not to mention my step-mother's, who would be furious when she found out what had happened. Somehow I knew that things were going to work out just fine.

He reached out and brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. "Baby Girl," he whispered before leaning forward and placing a kiss on my forehead. "My only desire in life is for you to be happy." He nodded his head and a smile lit up my face instantly. "You have my blessing."

"Thank you Daddy," I said, sailing into his arms, holding him tight.

There was a knock on the door and Scorpius entered. My father beckoned him to us while still clinging to me. Scorpius walked forward but stopped before us. "I sensed the mood of the room and I…I have something….I'd like to say." My father acknowledged him. "I am getting a divorce."

Our father's jaw tightened, his brow furrowing and he opened his mouth to rant and rail at Scorpius, but he wasn't given the chance. I gave him a look saying I had warned him this was coming and then Scorpius continued. "I will support little Gregory, give him the father he has missed out on. He is not my son, but I will love him as my own. I cannot stay married to Belle any longer however. I will not surrender my happiness any longer. Please respect my decision, Father."

Father seemed to consider this very carefully. Finally, after what could have been hours, but in reality were mere minutes, he nodded his head. "Your happiness is your own Scorpius. Proceed as you wish. You will always have the respect and backing of your father. Your mother…might be a different story."

"I will deal with Mother," Scorpius said simply, carrying every confidence in the world. "Now Chris," he said to me, "You have a worried fiancé pacing the length of his study at his house. You'd best see that that."

Thank you Scorpius, I thought. Thank you for keeping him safe.

And then I heard it. Through the cracks in my mind I could feel the edge of a muffled noise creeping its way through. It was barely audible at first, and then it smashed through the mental barrier and Scorpius's inner voice resounded throughout my head. My pleasure, Baby Girl, he is a fine young man.

I ran over, kissed him on the cheek and raced out of my father's study.

***

He was wearing a line on to the floor of his office. He was chewing on his fingernails, a habit he had dropped when he was twelve years old. His mind was racing with questions. The threat on his life had his heart beating faster. The sound of the floorboard creak behind him made him swivel on the spot and come face to face with a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes, an uncommon, yet not unheard of combination.

Before he could spurt out his apologies for leaving her in such a hurry, she whispered, "Kiss me," and made lip contact before he could process the words.

He lost himself in the kiss, found himself wishing for the best, daring to believe that her father had given his consent. She pulled back and smiled deliriously, "You'd be right," she said.

His eyes blinked with shock. He opened his mouth to speak again. She silenced him with a finger. "He was persuaded to believe you were to my benefit. I told him that I loved you the way my mother had loved him. The way my muggle mother, who died of breast cancer two years after I was born, loved him during their torrid affair. I convinced him that I loved you that much. Now don't think about it. Don't talk about it. Just kiss me."

He couldn't help but smile. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of tears and pride, and a sense of affection that could only be emanating from her. She had heard his thoughts, and he would ask about that later. Right now, he would do as she asked, because for better or worse, richer or poorer, 'til death do they part, he would do his best to make her happy. God help him, he loved her so and he was going to marry her.

_  
__**Author's Note: Here we go. The final chapter. Please leave a review! Thanks a million! **_


	4. Epilogue The Dream Come True

**Epilogue – The Dream Come True**

In Callum's arms I felt safe. I felt the world was right again. I felt judgment fade away into nothing, and this extraordinary emotion had come full circle. I looked to my right and saw my father watching us from his table. In his black tuxedo that had been crisply pressed for the occasion, he looked quite devastating. My step-mother sat beside him in her lavender linen suit jacket with matching skirt, poking at the vanilla cake that my father had set before her, though refusing to eat it. My father smiled broadly at us and sent a shower of gold sparklers into the air that fizzed and crackled like fireworks, mixing with the stars.

The dance floor was laid out in the open air. The tables surrounding the floor sat under canvas tents thin enough to see the stars. The air was filled with the scent of flowers and the general splendor the lanterns cast over the backyard of Malfoy Manor made it illuminate with a warmth I doubt it had ever known before.

My entire family was here. My aunts and uncles, cousins and extended family had come to see me walk down the aisle towards my future. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny came with James, Albus and Lily, who each brought their wives and husband.

Daisy was married to James, she was a darling girl with yellow blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She laughed carelessly and had a sparkle to her manner that I could tell my cousin was madly in love with. They had brought their daughters, Ivory and Chloe ages twelve and ten. Ivory boasted the same hair colour as her mother, wearing it cut at her shoulders, while Chloe wore her raven-black hair down past her shoulder blades.

Albus had married a wonderful girl named Casey. She had a sweet face with her hair in a boyish, pixie-cut. She held a more serious tone than Daisy, but she matched Albus's mood so well. He had always been more of brood than his brother and sister. They had brought their son, Joey, who was eleven and took after his father in more than one way.

Lily and her husband David had made a special trip from Ireland for the wedding, which I was doubly glad for. I had never been extremely close to my cousins, but from what little I could remember as a child I was always closer to Lily than James or Albus. David was a fine man, handsome, and he adored Lily and their twin seven-year-old sons, Tate and Whatley. They were like their mother, carrying on the redhead gene.

Uncle Ron had come as well. I was really hoping he'd be able to make it. He'd been such a dear man to me when I was a child. I hoped that he could come to forgive my father eventually. There had always been something of a rift between the two, during school, and then afterwards with the affair between my mother and my father. At the time my mother had been married to Ron Weasley. The torrid affair had split them even further apart and as a result he had always been Uncle Ron and never a step-father to me. That didn't matter though. He hadn't blamed me for the fault of my parents, which I admired him for. He'd come to the wedding with both Hugo and wife, and Rose.

Hugo's wife Kimberly had pale blue eyes and long brown hair. I could tell she was very fragile from the way she held herself. Their son Blake, thirteen, was likewise fragile. I had heard that Kimberly had suffered a few miscarriages before Blake had been conceived. He had been premature and sickly. He was very healthy now however, with gorgeous brown hair and lively blue eyes just like his mother. Already I was very fond of them. My half-brother had always been dear to me, and now his wife and child would be likewise.

Rose had come as well, wearing a graceful blue sun dress with matching blue hat. She held the hand of her daughter, Violet, who wore a yellow dress with a yellow ribbon in her hair. Rose was five years old.

I had watched earlier as Rose had entered the church and her gaze had brushed the crowd curiously before falling on my brother who was talking to Callum at the altar. I looked down at Violet, my niece, and at my half-sister, Rose, and asked them both to be a part of the wedding party. Rose became one of my bridesmaids and Violet became my flower girl, with her strawberry-blonde curls bouncing from side to side and her blue-grey eyes jumping excitedly at her new role.

"Mama, Mama," she squealed, "look at all those people. Who's that?" she pointed towards the altar where Scorpius stood now staring at the floor.

Rose looked at me knowingly and then at Scorpius before putting her attention back on her daughter. "That man," she said, her voice cracking slightly, "is your daddy, sweetheart." I let out a small gasp and Rose's eyes brimmed with tears. "When you reach the end of the aisle, little one," she continued, "I want you to put down your flowers and go take his hand, ok?"

"Okay!" Violet said excitedly.

Rose looked over at me. I heard her thoughts then, speaking to me, seeping in through the now non-existent barrier that my brother had broken. She asked me if what she'd just said was alright. I nodded, "Of course it's alright. Why wouldn't it be alright?"

"Belle might—"

"Belle might never find out let alone care, Rose. She's not here. Scorpius divorced her seven months ago."

"Really?" Rose looked down the aisle hopefully.

"Really," I replied. Buzzing through my sister's head were thoughts of passion and ecstasy, moments that had brought her Violet.

I had blocked her out then and started pining over whether my dress looked alright. I smoothed the front down and started biting my lip. The orchestra flutes started up a soft wedding march before the higher instruments joined in. It was soft and loud at the same time. Loud because it echoed against the walls of Malfoy Hall, and soft because my heart was beating so faster and so loud that I could barely think of anything else. Violet led the way, then my bridesmaids, and by the time it was time for me to start walking I could do nothing except brace my father's arm, clinging like all hell. I was so nervous.

We were halfway down the aisle when my father leaned over and whispered, "Relax, you're beautiful. Look at him."

My eyes met Callum's and the nervous butterflies that crowded my stomach disappeared. I wasn't marrying everyone else. I was marrying him. There was no reason to be as tense as I had been. He smiled back at me and I nearly broke out into a run to get to him. My father held me back. "Patience," he chuckled. We were at the altar and he lifted my veil and kissed me on the cheek. Winking at me he said, "Go get 'em," before going to sit beside my step-mother who's lips were pursed, looking very stern.  
Callum took my hand and we turned towards the Reverend. I didn't feel the least bit of unease about having a traditional muggle wedding. Callum was good with magic, but we wanted this experience to be about the both of us. The wedding was traditional but it was agreed that the reception would have a few extra bits and bobs to add a little magic to the celebration.

The words "man and wife, you may now kiss the bride" echoed in my head and we turned to face one another again. He lifted my veil and we took equal part in bringing our lips together and sealing this ever-sweet deal. Life with Callum was the best thing I could ever have hoped for. We turned and I gazed out over my family. They all clapped, the children screaming excitedly, tears brimming in their eyes and I felt my heart overflow with joy.

It was so beautiful and so majestic. And so complicated. The complexities of our family complicated themselves once again, but I held no fear for the future any longer.

I felt a kiss on my forehead and I landed back in my reality, Callum holding me close as we danced to the music. "Tell me what you're thinking?" he asked.

"I was thinking about my family. I'm very happy for my brother."

"He seems happy himself. Rose is a good-hearted woman. And Violet is a darling," he replied.

My brother and Rose were dancing a few feet away from us, their bodies close together, swaying to the beat. I could hear screams of laughter in the background and I saw a train of seven children running through the white clothed tables. Whatley appeared to have a snake on the end of a stick and was chasing the others. I laughed at the sight.

"I think seven is just about perfect," Callum whispered into my ear.

"Seven what?" I asked.

"Children."

I pulled back to look at him, "For whom, may I ask?"

He pulled back his lips to give me a wide toothy grin. "For us. Don't you want children?"

"Yes, of course, but…seven?!"

"You're right," he conceded and I let out the air in my lungs with relief before he continued. "Eight is probably better."

"Eight! Goodness gracious. You're trying to kill me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He twirled us in a circle.

"Could you really love eight children?" I asked.

"I think I could manage quite nicely," he admitted.

I snuggled under his chin. "Mhmm, eight children, all of whom would be able to do magic, and all of whom would come home every holiday during school and turn tea cups into gerbils and snakes. That does sound heavenly, I must say."

I looked up then, catching my tongue between my teeth and watching Callum's face wash with concern. He looked almost frightened at the picture I'd just painted for him. He gulped once. "Uh…on second thought, maybe two would be better."

I giggled, "Mhmm. Better, safer, not as many gerbils, not as many to gang up on you."

Callum laughed before stopping abruptly, "Wait…gang up on me? You wouldn't?"

I looked towards the sky and shrugged. I spun away from him before he could interrogate me further, but not before he caught my rear end with the flat of his hand, spanking me as I retreated. I made my way to my father's side laughing. I sat down and he handed me a plate of cake. "Oh, thank you. I'm famished." I scooped it up without the decency of using a fork and shoved it in my mouth.

Father laughed, before holding up the forgotten fork, "Manners, Christiana?" he said.

I smiled with a mouth full of cake before swallowing the cake and then grabbing the fork. I watched the spectacle in front of me as I devoured the rest of the cake. Rose and Scorpius still danced, as did a half dozen other couples that had been invited. Some were friends of my parents and some were friends of Callum, but all dear to my heart on this particular evening.

"Violet is the most peculiar child, isn't she?" my father inquired innocently looking out over the sea of tables that surrounding the dance floor. Violet and Blake were on the opposite side of the dance floor sitting around a table. Blake was eating a piece of cake and Violet was trying to steal it.

I knew what he was thinking. He could no longer keep secrets from me. He was an open book as far as I was concerned, though I gave him his privacy most of the time. This was not one of those times. "Dad, you can see the resemblance."

"The eyes," he admitted. "And the hair; it's a perfect mix of hers and his."

"Already he loves her," I said as I watched Violet in her yellow gown run up to Scorpius and Rose. Scorpius caught her with open arms and tossed her into the air playfully.

"I used to do that to you when you were that age," he said. "You were as light as a feather."

"Did I run to you like that Dad?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, shaking his head up and down, "you were very happy to see your father a lot of the time." He stopped then and I watched his brow furrow. He was contemplating. "I hope I have not deprived you of anything, Christiana."

"Deprived me?"

"Yes." He shook his head. "I'm trying to find the best way to say this. I…I hope that the choices I have made in the past, with your mother for instance, have not caused you any grief."

I smiled and remembered back to a night when I was only two-years-old and my brother's voice filled my ears.

Now many of your friends in school, when you're old enough to attend of course, will tease you or make up rumors about you, baby girl, because of how you were conceived. Two people, who were already married to others, got together and conceived you out of pure love…And even though Uncle Ron was married to your mother, he is not your father. It may be confusing for a while. But two previously married people had an affair and the result: you. You are called a love child, baby girl, a child born out of wedlock. Your parents were not married, but baby girl, they loved you so.

I looked back towards my father just then and shook my head, "No father. You're decisions never caused me any grief. Scorpius said that I would be teased, but truth be told, I never was. I was never a Granger. Not really. I was always a Malfoy. I have never wanted to be anything else."

"Cut me to the quick, Mrs. MacArthur." The voice came from behind me. Arms wrapped around me and a kiss was delicately placed on my cheek.

"I'm still a Malfoy, love," I told Callum, "I just have a different last name now."

"Fair enough. Dance with me?"

"Why not?" I replied, getting to my feet. I went over to my father and leaned in close. I kissed his forehead and said, "You've given me everything, Daddy. And I love you."

As Callum led me out on to the dance floor and swung me into his arms, I listened closely to the thoughts of those around me.

Scorpius felt love and affection towards Rose and his daughter. I was over the moon about his finding happiness. Just shy of forty I knew for certain that he would never again waste another second chasing me around a London alley. He had more important matters to fill his days. Such as making up for the five years he'd missed out on his daughter's life, and finding unequivocal bliss with Rose.

Astoria felt shame towards my chosen husband. I couldn't help but shrug off this feeling. Astoria had tried her darndest to be a good mother to me. But she could never replace the mother that I knew and loved in my heart. The woman who would have welcomed Callum like a son even before I'd said he was my fiancé. Astoria would just have to live with her shame because she wouldn't take my love away from me.

Rose felt an overwhelming sense of joy. The past five years, living with the knowledge that Scorpius might never again be happy had nearly driven her to distraction. The impending doom on his wedding day had forced her to make a decision she would never regret: Violet. Violet had given her hope. She had intended to tell Scorpius one day that Violet was his. It didn't take a lot of thinking to figure out that Rose, the unmarried mother of a five-year-old beauty with strawberry-blonde hair had been the lover of Scorpius Malfoy. I would have guessed it if Rose hadn't beat me to the truth.

Callum felt love. It radiated off of him like light from the sun. He was thinking about the day and how beautiful I had been when I walked down the aisle. He was going over the first dance, the cutting of the cake, and the look in my eyes every time I looked at him. I'd have to tell him later that I could hear everything he was thinking. He might have figured it out in the last seven months, but I couldn't be sure. He never let on. Then again, he did repetitively think 'I love you, I love you, I love you…' and so that might have been a defensive tactic or it could be the real McCoy. At the moment I couldn't care less. He loved me, magic and all, and was willing to love me forever.

I found my fathers thoughts, quiet and reserved, and tears welled up in my eyes. He was still sitting in his chair, watching Callum and I dance around the floor. It was hard not to cry at what he was thinking. It was hard not to search for his eyes. When his steely-grey eyes met my chocolate brown ones I heard a resounding declaration that seemed to consume my father. I love you, Baby Girl. And that says it all.

_**Author's Note: And there you have it folks. : ) I really hope you liked it. I especially hope that those who are fans of Baby Girl II are glad to see Rose and Scorpius back together and their little girl, Violet. I wanted to bring the entire family together for this one, so we have Hugo, Rose, James II, Albus II, and Lily II...goodness that's a lot of II's. I went back and worked this one through a few times to add in all the little details of the wedding night. Let me know your thoughts. I'll be getting started on a few new stories soon. Also finished a few old ones. Haha! Please leave a review! Thanks a million! **_


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